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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26407858">With Eyes of Nightingales</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/JazTheBard/pseuds/JazTheBard'>JazTheBard</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Angst, Eldritch, Found Family, Gen, Horror, Illustrated, Implied/Referenced Child Death, Kidnap Dads, POV Outsider, eldritch peredhil, i would tag this as 'misunderstandings' but it's really more like 'lying', which didn't happen</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-09-11</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-09-13</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 11:54:51</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>3</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>10,480</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26407858</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/JazTheBard/pseuds/JazTheBard</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Finarfin wants to know what happened to Elrond and Elros. Against their better judgement, Círdan and Gil-Galad go with him.</p><p>What they find is a terrifying forest, a fortress that defies geometry, and a pair of twins with bright eyes.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Círdan | Nowë &amp; Ereinion Gil-galad, Elrond Peredhel &amp; Elros Tar-Minyatur, Elrond Peredhel &amp; Maedhros | Maitimo, Elrond Peredhel &amp; Maglor | Makalaurë, Elros Tar-Minyatur &amp; Maedhros | Maitimo, Elros Tar-Minyatur &amp; Maglor | Makalaurë, FInarfin &amp; Círdan, Gil-Galad &amp; Finarfin</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>89</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>222</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>okay so this is a spinoff of my fic Lords of Amon Ereb that i wrote bc i just have a lot of ideas on these boys being creepy and eldritch</p><p>big thanks to my friend ri for proofreading and to the folks on the silm discord for brainstorming with me :)</p><p>NOW WITH ART!!!<br/>the one embedded in the text is by <a href="https://maironsmaid.tumblr.com/">maironsmaid</a> who is FANTASTIC!!<br/>there's also a <a href="https://cobaltjellyfish.tumblr.com/post/636050450410504194/a-drawing-of-one-of-the-scenes-from-this-by">beautiful comic by cobaltjellyfish</a><br/>they're both so wonderfully unsettling!</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The War of Wrath was dragging into its thirteenth terrible and bloody year, and it was past time for Finarfin to get answers.</p><p>He'd had a difficult time with adjusting to life in Beleriand, and he knew the people of Middle-Earth thought those of Aman to be naïve. They weren't wrong.</p><p>But he was sure he could handle finding out what had happened to Eärendil's sons, his young nephews. All he knew was that they had been alive when the mariner himself had reached Aman, as he had told Finarfin that the Valar had revealed such to him.</p><p>("Gone," Gil-Galad had said when he'd asked. "Probably dead. Eru forgive me, <em> hopefully </em> dead. It might be for the best."</p><p>And that had been the end of that.)</p><p>He knew his own children all had died, save for Artanis, who called herself Galadriel now; the last anyone had heard of her, she had gone east over the mountains with her husband. No one knew if she had made it safely, if the lands there were any more livable.</p><p>Finarfin was sure he could also handle the truth about his other nephews, the eldest ones. <em> "The Sons of Fëanor," </em> people called them, spitting out the name as if it were a curse, as if the boys he had seen grow up were worse than Morgoth. Maybe they were, but he needed to hear this from them; he needed to know <em> why-- </em></p><p>All this is to say that he tried again to ask Gil-Galad and Círdan what had happened.</p><p>"Since we have control over the nearby area at present, shouldn't we go and visit my nephews at their fortress? I'm sure they would help in the war."</p><p>Círdan exchanged a glance with Gil-Galad. "We could," he said slowly. "But we have been receiving strange reports of those lands in the domain of Amon Ereb, and must be cautious. I would not expect a warm welcome, either."</p><p>"And I suppose you ought to know what you'll be getting into, visiting them," said Gil-Galad.</p><p>Finarfin tried not to look too pleased at finally being given relevant information.</p><p>"You asked me before who my heir was," said Gil-Galad, "and by all rights it should be Elrond or Elros Eärendilion, but when the Sons of Fëanor attacked Sirion, they went missing. Not long after, we received a letter from the Fëanorians addressed to Elwing, who had reportedly turned into a bird and disappeared. It said that the twins were being held hostage and would be returned in exchange for the Silmaril."</p><p>Finarfin nodded. Heinous behavior, to be sure, but nothing worse than what he'd heard before.</p><p>"That was the last we heard of them," said Círdan. "They may have been alive when Eärendil reached Aman, but after the star rose, and there was no longer any chance of ransom..."</p><p>"I doubt they survived even to the second rising of Gil-Estel," Gil-Galad finished. "And if they live still, they will have been captive for nineteen years. For their sake, I have to hope they were killed."</p><p>Dear Eru.</p><p>Had his nephews really fallen so far as to murder children? They had nothing to gain by doing so, save perhaps revenge against Elwing, or simply ridding themselves of inconvenient hostages.</p><p>"That is -- that's a lot," said Finarfin.</p><p>Círdan patted him on the shoulder comfortingly. “We can still visit,” he said, “but we might want to be unobtrusive at first, gather information before confronting them. We should not be caught unawares.”</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>They decided that, as their host moved, they would sneak off for a short time and see what they could find out at Amon Ereb.</p><p>That would have been a good plan, but as they walked into the wood in the direction of the Fëanorians’ stronghold, they found themselves lost and turned around. A nightingale in a tree stared at them, unmoving; no matter how many times they turned around, or walked straight in an arbitrary direction, they came back to that tree and the peering bird. Or perhaps simply an identical tree and an identical nightingale.</p><p>Hours passed, and still they could not move past the forest and to the rest of the realm they knew lay beyond.</p><p>“How can we be this lost?” cried Finarfin. “This forest is not large; according to the map we should have made it through long ago.”</p><p>“It feels like the power of Melian, almost,” said Círdan.</p><p>Gil-Galad said, in almost a whisper, “Do you think it might be -- it sounds ridiculous, and yet -- might it be the dying curse of Elros and Elrond? Perhaps they trapped their murderers here, or it has some other purpose that we might find closer to the keep.”</p><p>“That is likely,” said Círdan.</p><p>Finarfin felt slightly sick from both the thought of such a terrible thing and his intense disorientation.</p><p>(It had been hours. It had to have been hours. But the sun had not moved.)</p><p>Just as they began to give up hope, two near-identical figures appeared.</p><p>They were Calaquendi, that was obvious enough, and brothers or perhaps twins. Their eyes and forms glowed with inner light, but they looked far too young to have seen the Trees.</p><p>Strange.</p><p>But one of them spoke and said, “Are you lost? Do you need guidance? We can take you somewhere safe.”</p><p>“Would that be further into the wood or out of it?” said Gil-Galad.</p><p>The other one laughed. “Out towards Amon Ereb, but if you wish to return in the direction you came, we can lead you out that way.”</p><p>“We will go your way,” said Finarfin. “Where is this place that is so secure? We do not wish to attract attention, and will not be here long.”</p><p>“There is a back way into the fortress,” said the first of the strangers. “There you shall be as safe as it is possible to be in Beleriand.”</p><p>“Lead on, then, as long as we are not marked,” said Círdan.</p><p>The pair led them through the trees with assured steps, not hesitating for a moment in their movements. In fact, at times their feet barely seemed to touch the ground.</p><p>Within a quarter of an hour, the group made it past the edge of the woods and saw the fortress upon Amon Ereb in the distance.</p><p>If it could be called a fortress.</p><p>Even from this distance, it looked wrong; something about the shape of the place didn’t seem like it fit. Every step closer was slightly dizzying.</p><p>Círdan felt seasick as they walked, a feeling he was unfamiliar with, but if other people felt like this on ships, he could understand why they remained on land.</p><p>One of the strangers paused. “I am sorry,” he said. “This must be disorienting if you have not been here before. Let us pause here; my brother shall go on ahead to open the door.”</p><p>Finarfin gratefully sat down as the other of the pair walked off and -- where was he? He had gone off in a straight line, and not far yet, but he could no longer be seen.</p><p>“Worry not, you will get used to it,” said the stranger who remained. “Have you any news from outside? We get little word here; this place is hard to enter and few are willing to return after leaving, if indeed they do leave.”</p><p>“The war progresses,” said Gil-Galad. “It is slow, but it progresses. South of the Andram and west of here is largely free of the Enemy’s forces.”</p><p>“Taur-im-Duinath is still under shadow, though,” said Círdan. “Pardon me if such a question is rude, but what is your name, and that of your brother?”</p><p>“I am called Athalaer, and my brother Altaur.”</p><p>
  <em> “Kind summer” and “blessed king.” Weighty names. </em>
</p><p>“It is good to meet you, Athalaer,” said Finarfin. “I am--”</p><p>Athalaer interrupted him. “I know who you are. We get little news here, not none, your majesty.” He smiled. It was sharper than it should be.</p><p>Soon the trio recovered, and followed Athalaer towards the hill, less dizzy now, but still they could not look at the fortress directly for more than a moment.</p><p>When they came to the beginning of the rise to the keep, Athalaer paused to warn his companions, “Step only where I step, and do not turn, or you may be lost, for space works itself strangely here. I will take you to the side door, that you shall not have to announce your presence at the main gate.”</p><p>There were stairs set into the side of the hill, and Athalaer took a strange path up them, twisting and stepping back and forth as he ascended. Círdan shrugged and followed him carefully, as did Gil-Galad. Finarfin thought it strange, but did the same.</p><p>Upon reaching the top of the stairs, Athalaer pointed to an open door. “In there,” he said. “It will still be strange to you, and perhaps unsettling, but it is secure.” He went ahead to the entryway, which was open as Altaur had promised.</p><p>Gil-Galad whispered to his companions as their guide moved away, “The enchantment is stronger here. If it be the dying curse of Elwing’s sons, they were killed in or near the fortress.”</p><p>“Then we owe it to them to enter,” said Finarfin.</p><p>“What if they are not dead? If this magic is in fact like that of the Girdle, they may be kept alive in captivity to sustain it. We would have to find and free them,” said Círdan.</p><p>The other two nodded. Questions and searching would be the first order of business.</p><p>Athalaer beckoned them through the door, and they felt as if they passed through a barrier that briefly turned the world on its head. Gil-Galad tripped over his feet, and Athalaer shushed him.</p><p>“This way,” he whispered.</p><p>They followed him, and he led them to a small courtyard where they saw--</p><p>Oh no.</p><p>Maedhros and Maglor stood as if expecting them, Altaur on Maedhros’s left and Maglor on his right.</p><p>Athalaer bowed and said, in perfect Fëanorian Quenya, “Allow me to present to you High King Arafinwë of the Noldor in Aman, High King Gil-Galad of the Noldor in Middle-Earth, and Lord Círdan the Shipwright.”</p><p>Maedhros nodded, and Athalaer broke his formality to bound up to him fearlessly. Maedhros ruffled his hair and murmured, “Good job.” Athalaer leaned into the touch, basking in the praise, and gave Finarfin and his companions a small, smug grin.</p><p>They were betrayed.</p><p>
  
</p><p>Maedhros bowed and spoke, this time to be heard by his visitors. "Welcome to Amon Ereb, your majesties, my lord. I am afraid we were not informed of your coming here, so our reception is perhaps less than it should be. But if you will come with me, we may see you situated for your stay."</p><p>Finarfin, still not back to feeling normal, found the presence of mind to ask, "And who are these two young elves who were our guides?"</p><p>"They are my sons," said Maedhros.</p><p>His <em> sons? </em></p><p>Gil-Galad looked as confused as Finarfin felt. Maedhros had not had children when he lived in Aman, and they were too young for that in any case, and yet their eyes were aglow.</p><p>When had they been born, anyway? They could not be much more than a hundred, if indeed they had reached their centennial at all. And who was their other parent, and where?</p><p>Maedhros and Maglor led the group towards, presumably, guest rooms.</p><p>The staircase they went up did not look like it led to the hallway it did, and when they stepped off the stairs they stepped <em> down </em> onto the landing. Finarfin felt upside down and backwards for a moment, and fought the urge to look in a mirror and see if he was the right way round.</p><p>"I hope there are no hard feelings about our little deception," said Athalaer with a disarming smile as their twisting route continued. "Oh, and my proper name is Aþelairë, just as my brother's is Almatáru."</p><p>"We use Sindarin names with visitors, but not so much among ourselves," Almatáru explained.</p><p>For the son of Maedhros to be named "blessed king" -- there must be something there, likely a plot to overthrow Gil-Galad and again place a descendant of Fëanor on the throne. It wouldn't take much; Gil-Galad had no heirs, and at this point an auspicious name and any royal bloodline at all might be enough to rule the Noldor.</p><p>"None at all," Finarfin lied. "You were only doing your duty in conducting visitors to the people in command."</p><p>"I did not know that Prince Maedhros had children," said Círdan as they walked, as casually as possible.</p><p>Almatáru laughed merrily. The sound was like bells, and more literally than such a phrase is usually meant. "That is no surprise; we are quite young, having only just recently reached our majority, and our father maintains that his personal life is hardly anyone's business."</p><p>That gave a timeframe, at least: they were most likely born between the Second Kinslaying and the great flight from Gondolin. They were probably not kinslayers, if only because they had been too young to fight at Sirion. But how did they look as those who had seen the Trees?</p><p>“Have you any other parent?” asked Gil-Galad.</p><p>“No mother here, if that is what you are asking,” said Almatáru. “But Maglor is as another father to us, and helped to raise us from when we were young.”</p><p>“I see.”</p><p>Silence fell for a time.</p><p>“Here is where you will be staying,” Maedhros said, gesturing to a set of guest rooms all in a row down a hallway.</p><p>(They weren’t in a row. The hall wasn’t long enough; they wouldn’t all fit, but they <em> were </em> in a row and yet they weren’t. Their positions defied description.)</p><p>Maglor spoke for the first time since Finarfin’s arrival. “Do not wander the fortress alone, please. It is very easy to lose one’s bearings here. Someone will guide you.”</p><p>“We can do it,” Aþelairë volunteered. Almatáru nodded in agreement.</p><p>Maglor smiled. “Such responsible hosts! All right, then.”</p><p>The twins preened again as they had at Maedhros's praise back in the courtyard.</p><p>"We will leave you here to get settled," said Maedhros. "This place can take some getting used to."</p><p>"How long has the area been this way?" asked Círdan, trying not to sound overly interested. "It seems Maiarin, almost."</p><p>Maedhros raised an eyebrow. "Perceptive. Reality began to warp about fifteen years ago."</p><p>Finarfin's blood ran cold. It had been fifteen years since Gil-Estel had first risen. Gil-Galad had been right; this was the dying curse of the murdered children.</p><p>Their hosts walked off, and Finarfin, Gil-Galad, and Círdan were left alone with the twins.</p><p>After a pause, Aþelairë said, “Well, you ought to settle in, but we can answer any questions you have in the meantime.”</p><p>“In that case, why is this land -- and this keep especially -- so strange?” asked Finarfin, right to the point. After all, if he couldn’t be direct with his own half-great-nephews, who could he be direct with?</p><p>Almatáru gave a smile that was just this side of a smirk. “Oh, but that would be telling! You were right that it is Maiarin. It is difficult to pass the borders here without guidance, in either direction, and if you’re not careful you’ll end up somewhere you never meant to go. Space is all tangled up, you see.”</p><p>“We here are all quite used to it,” said Aþelairë. “Some of the Edain youth have never known another way to live. It doesn’t seem to harm them, in any case, and it makes it hard for us to be attacked.”</p><p>“That’s strange,” said Gil-Galad, more to feel included in the conversation than anything else.</p><p>Círdan, however, had a relevant question. “We were under the impression that the sons of Elwing and Eärendil came here, after... well.” He coughed. “Do they still reside here?”</p><p>“In a manner of speaking,” said Aþelairë, “but ‘reside’ is perhaps not the most accurate word.”</p><p>Finarfin would process that cryptic statement later. “May we see them?”</p><p>“I do not think you will, no,” said Almatáru. “That is not to say it is physically impossible, and in a place like this one does have to specify, but I very much doubt that you will see them.”</p><p>Dead, then, and buried nearby; "still here" after a fashion. At least they suffered no more, but to bring back such news to the boys’ parents would be cruel without outright confirmation.</p><p>They unpacked in tense silence in their surprisingly normal rooms while the twins waited in the hall playing some sort of complicated juggling game with small rocks that either moved too fast to see or were teleporting spontaneously.</p><p>Gil-Galad said, in a rather transparent attempt to get them to leave, "I think we will stay here awhile to recuperate. The forest was quite disconcerting."</p><p>To Finarfin's relief, their young hosts nodded. "We will come and fetch you for dinner in a few hours," said Aþelairë.</p><p>"If you should need us before then, to take a walk around or some such, simply knock on an open door twice and kick the bottom of it gently. We'll know; this place works on strange rules."</p><p>The pair went off.</p><p>After they were out of earshot, Círdan gathered Finarfin and Gil-Galad into his room.</p><p>"What is our first step?" he asked. "From what the two of them said, Elrond and Elros were killed many years ago."</p><p>"We ought to look for their graves," said Gil-Galad, "if they were given any, that is."</p><p>Finarfin fervently hoped they had at least had that dignity. "We could ask around. Surely someone will tell us, someone who is not so deeply loyal to the Fëanorions as their sons are."</p><p>Círdan nodded. "Let us begin our investigation, then."</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>They left Círdan's room and went back the way they came, trying not to attract attention. Luckily, the denizens of Amon Ereb seemed happy to ignore them as they went about their day.</p><p>There were a number of Edain children around, but no elflings, or indeed any elves even close to the age of Maedhros's sons. The young ones seemed happy enough, and all the adults seemed to dote on them, but such kindness had obviously not been shown to the stolen children.</p><p>They would have only been ten years old when they were murdered.</p><p>Finarfin shook himself. No point in speculating.</p><p>They meant to go down to the ground level, and from there search around the outside of the fortress. A place with so many mortals would need some sort of graveyard, so they would look there first.</p><p>After half an hour, Finarfin deeply regretted not listening when Almatáru had said how easy it was to get lost. They had taken four flights downwards and somehow ended up on a higher floor. With no obvious way out -- and the curse might decide to trap them inside anyway -- they would have to start asking around.</p><p>They found a human woman, wearing the clothes of the people of Bór, who did not appear to be busy, and Círdan approached her.</p><p>"Pardon me, but--"</p><p>"Oh!" she said, startled. "You surprised me. I am Vadh, do you need help?"</p><p>"A pleasure to meet you. I am Círdan, and we do indeed need help. There are a few questions we have, if it's no trouble."</p><p>Vadh spread her arms. "Well then, ask away!"</p><p>"We were under the impression that our kinsmen Elrond and Elros Eärendilion were taken here," said Gil-Galad. "We haven't seen the brothers, or heard tidings of them. What news is there?"</p><p>Vadh's expression shuttered. She was silent for a time. Eventually, she said in a low voice, "I was quite young at the time, so my memory is imperfect. I can recall their coming here; most of us children thought we had received two new playmates. We were--" she swallowed, "--very wrong. I remember how afraid they were. But those days are over now."</p><p>"What happened?" breathed Finarfin.</p><p>"Well, they certainly aren't afraid anymore. They never left," said Vadh. "After they -- I mean, after, everything here began to twist. It was terrifying at first, but we got used to it."</p><p>"I'm sorry to have distressed you so," said Finarfin, all his worst fears confirmed.</p><p>Vadh gave a shaky smile. "It is good you asked me. A younger person might not have recognized the names; they were given new ones soon after arriving."</p><p>They had been denied their <em> names? </em></p><p>Such a thing was near unthinkable, especially for elves, who put such stock in them. It was something Morgoth was reported to do to break his prisoners.</p><p>Dear Valar. Could Maedhros and Maglor really be so cruel? Finarfin did not want to believe it, wanted to clutch desperately at any evidence that the nephews he once knew were still good at their core, but there was no denying Vadh's words.</p><p>Gil-Galad opened his mouth to speak, but just as he did, another human came rushing around the corner, out of breath.</p><p>"Vadh!" they cried. "It's the baby -- your husband has gone into labor! Come quick, Prince Aþelairë is already there, but Brënor needs you!"</p><p>"Brënor," Vadh gasped. She turned to the elves. "I am needed elsewhere. Do be careful not to get lost!" She ran off in what was presumably the direction of the healing wing.</p><p>"Apparently Aþelairë is a healer," Círdan remarked.</p><p>Finarfin gave him a look. "Really? That's all you got out of that conversation?"</p><p>"I'm more worried by the fact that he, and probably his brother as well, use the title of prince," said Gil-Galad. "Almatáru may indeed be aiming for the crown."</p><p>"It is their right to be called so," said Finarfin, "as descendants of Finwë in the direct eldest line. Not that that's a comforting thought, mind."</p><p>"Oh yes, I almost managed to forget the extremely unpleasant fact that they have a better claim to the throne than either of us, even if their father abdicated. Did you really have to remind me?"</p><p>Círdan sighed. "Could we get back to the topic of the <em> dead </em> twins?"</p><p>"What they must have gone through," said Gil-Galad with a shudder. "I almost don't want to know about it, but we do need answers."</p><p>"Why don't we ask the next person we come across?" Finarfin suggested.</p><p>The next person they came across, it turned out, was Almatáru.</p><p>The young elf broke into a slightly-too-wide grin upon seeing them (that couldn't be the right number of teeth, that had to be too many) and hurried over. "Are you all right, your majesties, my lord? If you had wanted to go somewhere, you ought to have told me. Goodness, you could have gotten lost without a guide!" He sounded genuinely concerned, but that smile put no one at ease.</p><p>"My apologies," said Finarfin. "We did get rather lost, I'm afraid, but luckily you found us."</p><p>"Lucky indeed, for my brother is busy. One of our people, Brënor, is having a baby, and Aþë is a gifted healer, so he will be occupied for the foreseeable future," his lips quirked. "Well, I say 'foreseeable.' For the next sixteen and a half hours or so. The naming ceremony will be tomorrow evening."</p><p>Foresight? Really? No one else in Fëanor's line had ever had the gift for it, or for healing, for that matter, but it seemed that these twins were determined not to copy anyone else's skillset.</p><p>"We shall be sure to attend," said Círdan politely.</p><p>There was an awkward pause.</p><p>Almatáru looked at them askance for a moment, then said, "You haven't seen or heard anything... <em> strange, </em> by any chance, have you? Visitors have reported odd experiences while they were lost here."</p><p>Finarfin gave his companions a puzzled glance. "Not in particular, no. Only the incomprehensible geography of the fortress."</p><p>Almatáru's expression cleared. "Good, good," he said. "Is there anywhere in particular you would like to visit, while you're out and about?"</p><p>"How about the library?" said Gil-Galad, most likely picking a destination at random.</p><p>"Of course. Follow me."</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Chapter 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>The rest of the afternoon and evening passed largely without incident, the three visitors agreeing not to bring up Elros and Elrond at dinner to avoid getting thrown out of Amon Ereb.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They dined not in the great hall, but in a more private dining room, with only Maedhros, Maglor, and Almatáru, as Aþelairë was still in the healing wing. It eased a family dinner, at least in theory. Finarfin recognized the meal as Maedhros's own cooking, but chose not to comment on it. They ate in awkward silence for a time.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eventually, Maglor said, "Táru, honey, why don't you tell us about your latest project?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Almatáru's face lit up. He began explaining his current endeavor, which was apparently the collection and analysis of Edain folktales, and how it related to his other projects on linguistic development. "I might be able to tell which groups of Men were more closely tied before they made the crossing into Beleriand!" he said excitedly. "And by looking at their languages' similarity to Quenya and Sindarin, which peoples had dealings with elves, too! I might even be able to make some educated guesses about the elven languages east of the mountains!" He launched into a description of his analysis so far.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The rest of dinner was considerably more pleasant, being a lively discussion of Almatáru's ideas with occasional interjections from the boy's fathers to remind him to actually eat.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Afterwards, they all declined an invitation to music in the great hall and readied themselves for bed.</span>
</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>
  <span>Finarfin's dreams that night were vivid and terrible.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He stood in what looked to be a cellar, and two identical children stood before him silently.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Elrond? Elros?" he guessed aloud.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The twins flinched and looked around, as if expecting some danger to suddenly appear. "You cannot say those names!" hissed one of them. "It is not allowed!"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I'm sorry," said Finarfin softly, kneeling down to be at their level. "I don't want to get you in trouble."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"It's okay," the other twin whispered. "You didn't know. But you cannot call us that."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The cellar was becoming progressively more ominous and disquieting as they spoke. Finarfin said, "It is dark here. Would you like to go outside?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>In response, the twins held up their hands to display the shackles on their wrists.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Who are you, anyway?" one of them asked, then cringed as if expecting some sort of rebuke.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I am your father's family, and your family too," said Finarfin. "Is there any way for me to help you?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Their faces brightened. "Do you know where Nana is?" one asked with long-crushed hope once more rising in his voice.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I do indeed."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Can you tell her where we are? They said if Nana gives them her necklace they will let us see her again and go home."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The other nodded in agreement. "I'm sure she will come and get us if you tell her where we are. The only reason she has not yet is that she is lost, right?" He lowered his voice. "I do not like it here."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His twin elbowed him. "Complaining isn't allowed! You know what happens."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I don't," said Finarfin. "What happens if you complain?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"That's why we're in the cellar in the first place. And if we complain more we don't get food, or we do but it's not good to eat."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Surely someone has said something, though?" said Finarfin, his dread so great it almost felt alive. But not everyone could be so uniformly terrible; there were parents among them who surely could not stand for such treatment of children.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I don't know. Someone brought us better food for a while, but he got caught, and we never saw him again. </span>
  <em>
    <span>No one</span>
  </em>
  <span> is allowed to complain. But especially not us."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I am so sorry. If only I had been able to come and get you earlier!"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The boys looked puzzled. "We can't leave. Not unless they get Nana's necklace."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"How long have you been down here?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"...I don't know."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Finarfin woke up.</span>
</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>
  <span>The next morning, Aþelairë came to fetch them to breakfast, looking exhausted. "I stayed up right through the night," he said, "and Atya told me in no uncertain terms that I must eat something. Brënor and Vadh and their new baby are resting. Did you sleep well?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I'm afraid not. Troubling dreams, you see," said Finarfin.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I am not surprised. Visitors often report such things."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Taking a risk in telling the truth, Finarfin replied, "In the dream I saw two young twins in a cellar somewhere."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Aþelairë stiffened for a moment, then visibly forced himself to relax. "That was long ago. But then again, much of the past haunts us, does it not?" He paused. "I must ask you to disregard any further dreams, and anything similar you may see or hear. Official policy of the fortress, you could call it."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Is that common?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"The Men say all places have their ghosts. Ours are simply more recent."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Finarfin did not like the implications of that.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>After breakfast, Aþelairë excused himself to go take a nap, promising to attend the naming ceremony later on.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I'm afraid you'll have to put up with Táru until the afternoon," he said, elbowing his twin playfully, "but I'm in no state to be a good host."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>As he left, he surreptitiously dropped a folded piece of paper into Finarfin's lap. Finarfin hid it to read later.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was determined that Círdan should speak with Maedhros about the ongoing state of the war today, while the other two went with Almatáru. Finarfin knew this to be a breach of etiquette; being king and uncle to Maedhros meant he ought to do it, but he was glad of the chance to investigate further.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>After leaving breakfast, he quickly scanned over the note. It read:</span>
</p><p></p><blockquote>
  <p>
    <em>
      <span>"I did not lie when I said they were still here. Their spirits remain, trapped or bound in some way. They reach out in dreams. The fortress is protected by their power, but they are unhappy, to say the least."</span>
    </em>
  </p>
</blockquote><p>
  <span>Finarfin paused.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Finarfin reread the note.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The words had not, unfortunately, changed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Elros and Elrond did not even have the comfort of peace and healing in Mandos, but were trapped here with their tormentors indefinitely to fuel the strange protections on the land and the keep. Finarfin almost preferred his theory of it being a dying curse.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Say what you will about the Sons of Fëanor, but they have great ingenuity," murmured Gil-Galad bitterly, reading over Finarfin's shoulder. "They saw the children would no longer be good hostages and found a way to put them to use again. It makes me sick."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Finarfin sighed. "The same for me, I'm afraid. We need to talk to more people today if we can manage to escape our chaperone's watchful eyes."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They did not manage to evade Almatáru, who seemed to know everything they were up to as if he had eyes in the back of his head, but they did cajole him into answering some questions.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Did you ever see Elwing’s sons during their time here?” said Gil-Galad.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Almatáru shook his head. “Not much at all, I’m afraid. I know they knew we existed; we were... well, I think we were meant to be an example to them, to show them how much better things could be if they behaved.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Did they? Behave, that is?” said Círdan.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He shuddered and said, “Not at first. I remember the times they tried to run. The aftermath was far from pleasant; we knew so even though our fathers kept us well away. They stopped trying soon enough.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Well, at least Finarfin’s nephews had kept their </span>
  <em>
    <span>own</span>
  </em>
  <span> sons relatively untraumatized and uninvolved in the torture of other children, though that was barely a silver lining.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Listen,” Almatáru continued, “I am sorry that I cannot be of more help to you, or them, for that matter, but this is not a safe conversation to be having. I may be safe from consequences, but you are not. Take it up with my brother if you are inclined to risk.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They spent the time until midday in awkward silence.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lunch, another meal cooked by Maedhros, was delicious, but Finarfin could not bring himself to appreciate it, not when he knew what -- </span>
  <em>
    <span>who</span>
  </em>
  <span> -- was protecting Amon Ereb.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>After the tense meal, they went with Aþelairë to take a walk outside the fortress.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It should not affect you as it did when you first came here,” the now much more awake youth reassured. “You must be careful still, but the dizziness ought to be gone now.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And indeed, they found the trek down and around the hill much easier than the walk upon their arrival. Finarfin even had the presence of mind to remember that Almatáru had told him to question Aþelairë rather than him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Do you happen to know any more of what became to Elrond and Elros?” he asked as they walked.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Not much, but not nothing. We were kept away from them so as to ensure we did not get attached. My brother and I were young when it happened, you see, and our fathers feared that we would be upset when we could no longer see them, if we had become friends," said Aþelairë. "I am sorry we could not do anything.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No one blames you,” said Círdan.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Gil-Galad, who probably did blame them a little bit, said, “Of course not. You were children, too.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Aþelairë nodded shakily. “As I said, we were kept apart, so I know few details, but they do reach out in dreams, and at times they can speak in such a way that they are heard by waking folk. The easiest way to hear them is at the well at night; their voices echo, but it is clear and loud enough.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Where is the well?" said Finarfin.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Right here," said Aþelairë, who had apparently led them right to it, pointing. "Now we had better get back. Much further and the birds will start paying attention."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"The birds?" Gil-Galad asked.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"They watch. Mostly they remain in the woods, but the twins can see through their eyes. Sometimes the nightingales try to speak to lost visitors, but their words are unintelligible. Fear not, they are harmless."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Finarfin had not initially been worried about being attacked by nightingales, but he certainly was now. "Let us go back, then."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The rest of the afternoon passed without incident, and they made their way to the great hall for the naming ceremony of the new baby.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Aþelairë held the child, as was traditional for the healer who had delivered the baby, and announced that Vadh and Brënor now had a healthy daughter, born that very morning. The couple, looking exhausted but overjoyed, took her from his arms and named her Tanorth to thunderous applause and cheering.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Vadh then handed Tanorth to Almatáru to read the baby's future.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His eyes unfocused as prophecy gripped him. "Tanorth of the people of Bór shall be both a mighty warrior and a famed storyteller who shall pass down for the ages the tale of the day Morgoth was defeated for eternity."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Another cheer came, for these were joyous portents indeed. In Tanorth's lifetime would the Shadow be cast down, and she would know the world without evil in it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>This was very much news to Finarfin, who had until now had no idea how long this war would last.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The proud parents then handed little Tanorth to a wise woman for her blessing, and she was then passed around to everyone else that needed to bless her, including Maedhros and Maglor. This was a bit much for the baby, and she began to sniffle before being returned to Vadh and Brënor, who calmed her.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Then the celebratory feast began.</span>
</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>
  <span>That night, Finarfin snuck down to the well.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>As he carefully descended the hill, he began to hear otherworldly, disembodied voices in the direction he was heading, spurring him on.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>When he reached the well, he could make out the words.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Father, why do you love us not?”</span>
  </em>
  <span> the voices wailed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He stood at the edge of the well and called, “Why do you weep?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The two (or was it more, the echo did strange things to the sound, there might be a thousand) voices twined about one another, crying, </span>
  <em>
    <span>“We are deceived and abandoned! Look upon the Evening Star and see how well we are valued by those who claimed to love us!”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Finarfin’s heart nearly broke to hear the children weep for their perceived abandonment by their parents. “Why do you protect this place where you do not wish to be, these people who did you such great wrong?”</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“We cannot leave. We cannot stop protecting. We are bound by chains unbreakable.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“Is there any way to release you?” he asked, hoping against hope that there might be.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“No. There is no freeing us.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Finarfin wept into the well, saying, “I will try. If I can convince them to let you go I will.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The wail rose again, but it stopped when a voice came from the fortress above.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Maedhros had opened his window and yelled down, “Tanorth only just got to sleep, and some of us are trying to do the same! Quiet down there!”</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>How can he be so cruel, to berate the ghosts of the children he murdered?</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Finarfin did not want to think about it any further for tonight. He returned to his room.</span>
</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>
  <span>Finarfin dreamed once more of the cellar.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>There were the twins, yet again! But something was off. They looked older, the age they would have been when the star rose. No longer chained, one paced the floor of the cellar as the other watched.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Finarfin again said their birth names, as he did not know the names they were given when their real ones were denied them. “Are you Elros and Elrond?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Again they flinched. The twin who was pacing stopped and said, “Once, yes, but no longer. In truth, I had nearly forgotten those names.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“How old are you now?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We do not count time here. Our father’s boat rose in the sky some time ago. Surprisingly enough, we have not yet been killed. I think there may now be another use for us.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Why are you not in chains? You were before.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The twin leaning against the wall said, defeated, “What is the point in running? There is nowhere we can go and no one waiting for us, and we are not strong enough to get anywhere. Even trying is pointless.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We are treated better if we obey and do not try to escape,” said the other. “It is only practical to behave, especially now that there is no incentive to keep us alive that we know of.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Finarfin, who knew of their coming death and binding, could not bring himself to say anything.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The guilt of it pulled him down, and he awoke.</span>
</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>
  <span>Early the next morning, before breakfast, Finarfin told his companions what he had discovered.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"They are bound here by some magic," he said, "to keep the enchantment running that protects Amon Ereb. They were kept alive, it seems, long enough to set it up."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Círdan grimaced. "That is cruel indeed, to keep them from peace in Mandos. What can be done about it?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"They said that they could not be freed, but I think if Maedhros and Maglor choose to release them, that may work."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Gil-Galad opened his mouth to speak, but a knock on the door interrupted him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Good morning!" said Aþelairë cheerfully. "I hope you slept well; there was much noise in the night."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Indeed. Again I had a dream of those I heard from the well,” said Finarfin.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I hope it was not too unpleasant. Some of their memories can be... well.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>With that, they went to breakfast.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>After the awkward-as-ever meal, when they adjourned to the courtyard, Gil-Galad spoke up. “I have a question.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I cannot promise I may answer, but there can be no harm in asking,” said Aþelairë.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“How old were they? When they died?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Aþelairë pressed his lips together. “Older than ten. They had begun to grow into their power, and my fathers would not waste such ability.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What did they do?” said Círdan.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A wry, lopsided smile found its way to Aþelairë’s face. “They </span>
  <em>
    <span>motivated</span>
  </em>
  <span> them to protect the fortress. Things only changed when the war began, though I suppose that was not much later.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Finarfin reeled. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Was it the coming of my host that killed them? Once there was a real chance they could be rescued, they were murdered and their souls bound?</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“But do not get too hopeful,” the youth continued. “There is no way to unravel the binding from the outside, and I do not think you will be able to convince my fathers to free them.”</span>
</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>
  <span>In the afternoon, Finarfin was obliged to discuss matters of strategy with Maedhros, and so missed out on several hours of investigation.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He said a few empty words of praise for Maedhros’s sons being good hosts, which made the red-haired elf beam.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“They are wonders, are they not? Neither Maglor nor I could be prouder of them.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Are their names prophetic, by any chance? I would think that any child of yours would be named some variation of Finwë otherwise,” said Finarfin.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Maedhros gave a long-suffering sigh. “They are indeed named Cantëafinwë, but that is no name for a person to have. Their other names are indeed names of foresight. Though, of course, with Almatáru around, everything is of foresight,” he said with a laugh. “They both have the gift, but it runs stronger in him, while Aþelairë prefers healing, though they share that too.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Maedhros put the real conversation on hold for a time to gush about his sons, the clear adoration in his voice brightening his scarred face.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Finarfin could not resolve the image of this doting father with that of the Maedhros the dead twins had spoken of, the cruel torturer he had been to them.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He settled in for a long discussion of Almatáru’s linguistic pursuits and Aþelairë’s architectural ideas (none of which he was allowed to criticize, as Maedhros was quite defensive about his sons’ abilities).</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Chapter 3</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>When he returned to his companions, they told him what they had learned from Almatáru.</p><p>“He did not want to tell us anything, but we convinced him to speak,” said Gil-Galad, “though he was cryptic. In contradiction with what his brother said, Almatáru implied that Elros and Elrond are alive."</p><p>"What?!"</p><p>Círdan nodded in confirmation. "It may be that he meant in the sense that any spirit inhabiting a responsive physical form, in this case the entirety of Amon Ereb, can be considered alive. But if not, we must search."</p><p>"Perhaps he knows something that Aþelairë does not," said Finarfin. "In any case, you are right. Let us look."</p><p>They managed to make it down to the cellars, but those rooms that were not filled with innocuous things were entirely empty, without even the chains Finarfin had seen in the dream.</p><p>"Maybe they were moved?" Gil-Galad suggested.</p><p>They began to search the ever-changing corridors, listening for any sounds of distress and looking for anything out of the ordinary (at least, anything out of the ordinary in a way incongruent with the rest of Amon Ereb).</p><p>They found nothing too strange, but did stumble upon a bedroom with its door ajar. After taking a look around for anyone who might see, Gil-Galad pushed it open and peeked inside.</p><p>The first thing Finarfin noticed was that the room was, thankfully, empty.</p><p>The second was the color scheme.</p><p>Fëanor's color had always been red, with a silver or gold star on that background, and his sons had largely followed that pattern (though Maglor wore a lot of blue). This room, however, was decorated in purple.</p><p>One wall had a tapestry of dusk over the Belegaer, the last rays of sunset just disappearing into the sea. Upon the desk lay a book on Khuzdul, and, more interestingly, a diary.</p><p>"We should not read that," said Círdan. "This appears to be Almatáru's room, and we should respect his privacy."</p><p>Gil-Galad picked up the diary. "Of course we should not read it, but we will anyway. Just the most recent entry." He opened it, and took a breath as if to speak, but paused and furrowed his brow. "I cannot read this."</p><p>Finarfin took it. "This is written in the sarati lettering, devised by Rúmil. I can read it."</p><p>He read:</p><p> </p><p></p><blockquote>
  <p>
    <em> "These visitors inch ever closer to the truth, and I worry. It is not out of the question that they will discover it, and be put into danger by that knowledge; nor is it unlikely that the horror of it will hurt them. </em>
  </p>
  <p>
    <em> Perhaps Aþelairë and I should have lied and said that Elrond and Elros are long since dead and gone entirely, though there is enough evidence to the contrary that I doubt such a falsehood would stand for long. It might be best now to reveal the truth, but how to do so? It is nothing I can state outright, even if it were believable without proof. </em>
  </p>
  <p>
    <em> Perhaps, if there is sleep to be found tonight, I will know the best course of action in the morning." </em>
  </p>
</blockquote><p>There was a pause.</p><p>"Are we missing something?" Círdan asked. "Aside from what Almatáru said today, I thought we had the whole picture, but now it appears otherwise."</p><p>“I suppose I must go again to the well tonight to ask,” said Finarfin.</p><p>Gil-Galad nodded. “Before the brothers manage to hide anything else.”</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>Lunch was awkward, and dinner was worse, as Aþelairë and Almatáru snuck each other worried glances and Maedhros and Maglor tried and failed to carry on a conversation with their guests.</p><p>Finarfin snuck away just after the meal concluded, as the night darkened and the stars appeared above.</p><p>From the well he heard two voices crying once again, but they sounded multiplied a thousand times over. No, wait, there were at least six different things being said, how could--</p><p>He realized he was running, and stopped himself before falling into the well. The sound of the children crying echoed and echoed up the well and reverberated through his mind and out his ears.</p><p>There was singing in the sound. It was beautiful and all-encompassing and beyond any words to describe, and Finarfin wept, overcome.</p><p>The voices called to him <em> “You have returned. (You have returned?) Why are you here?” </em></p><p>“What happened to you?” he cried. The starlight burned and the wind whipped up.</p><p><em> “After the star,” </em> the twins sang. <em> “After the star, they changed. They tricked us. (Deceivers!) They taught us to love them, and we did, we did.” </em></p><p>Finarfin’s whisper of “What?” was stolen from his mouth.</p><p>
  <em> “We loved, and they asked us to help, and we did, and then they did this to us! Only here can we speak honestly (only here can we be ourselves, mourn ourselves).” </em>
</p><p>The wind howled along with the voices. Finarfin had to shout to be heard, but he said, “What is it that the twins in the fortress know?”</p><p>
  <em> “Too much. (Too little.) They tried and they failed.” </em>
</p><p>There was humming at a frequency that ripped through him; he felt on the verge of being torn apart by it.</p><p>The twins, the infinite Void yawning in the space between their countess voices, sang, <em> “Go.” </em></p><p>He went.</p><p>When he arrived back at his room, he wiped his eyes. His hand came away covered in red, for he realized in horror that he had been weeping blood.</p><p>He sobbed again (thank Nienna that this time his tears were only water), and resolved that the next day he would say something, some censure towards Maedhros and Maglor for manipulating and murdering children.</p><p>Finarfin did not dare sleep that night.</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>In the morning, neither of the twins came to fetch the visitors. Instead, Maglor came to escort them to breakfast.</p><p>“The boys are not feeling well this morning,” he explained apologetically. “They were looking forward to seeing you, but they each have a terrible headache and a sore throat. I believe they will be well enough to attend lunch, though.”</p><p>Elves were not supposed to be able to get sick, but these days, when Morgoth’s malice tainted the very land, it was known to happen. And last night had been -- uneasy.</p><p>And, well, like called to like, did it not? Twins and twins. Perhaps they were more sensitive to the dead children.</p><p>“I hope they feel better soon,” said Gil-Galad.</p><p>After eating, while everyone was finishing their tea, Finarfin clenched his fists under the table and steeled himself.</p><p>"Where are Elrond and Elros?"</p><p>Gil-Galad and Círdan looked at him with wide eyes, but he did not return their gaze, instead keeping his eyes locked on the Fëanorions.</p><p>To his surprise, Maglor only gave a puzzled frown. "They are not feeling well. I thought I had told you?"</p><p>"A sore throat," said Maedhros, nodding in agreement.</p><p>
  <em> What? </em>
</p><p>How could -- oh.</p><p>Oh <em> no. </em></p><p>It all made sense now. The twins had their names taken, yes, but after the star had risen, they were given new ones: Aþelairë and Almatáru, Quenya names suitable for the sons of Maedhros and Maglor, for so they were forced to be. The part of them that <em> remembered </em>was locked into the well and used to fuel the enchantment they had created to protect the place they now called home.</p><p>They were beyond saving. Aþelairë had time and time again tried to say they were dead, so that Finarfin would not have hope, and until now, he had not believed it. But he had heard a rumor of a necromancer, likely some servant of the Enemy, who murdered elves and Men alike and placed their souls again into bodies, this time without any troublesome things such as morals or free will. The thought that his own nephews could and would do the same!</p><p>He forced none of this to show on his face, and resolutely refused to wonder how the children had died.</p><p>(There had been scorch marks on the stones of the fortress wall.)</p><p>"Of course, it must have slipped my mind," he said.</p><p>Maglor sighed. "We did <em> warn </em> them that this would happen, but they never do listen. But what can one do? They are only young adults; it's natural enough for them to be so heedless."</p><p>Finarfin nodded pleasantly as he tried to parse the meaning of those words. Maedhros and Maglor had apparently found out that the twins had tried to tell Finarfin the truth, which they had probably expressly forbidden, and they had been punished for it, despite the fact that only the part of them that was <em> not </em> the loyal, mind-turned Aþelairë and Almatáru had said something.</p><p>Valar, they had been trying to <em> warn </em> Finarfin that they had been turned!</p><p>After breakfast, he explained his conclusions to an increasingly horrified Círdan and Gil-Galad.</p><p>After a moment of thought, Círdan said, "I believe I understand their current plan. They have a stronghold here that is nearly unassailable thanks to their 'sons,' and need not leave it. If something happens to Gil-Galad, or they <em> make </em> something happen, Almatáru will replace him, puppeted by Maedhros. They intend to let us fight this war and reclaim the Silmarils once we have served our purpose. If they reveal Aþelairë's identity, they may even install him as King of the Sindar, and thus gain power over all the elves of Beleriand."</p><p>Finarfin shuddered. "What are we to tell Eärendil and Elwing?"</p><p>"The truth might be too cruel," said Gil-Galad. "We should say only that they were mind-turned, for they do live still, but they will not return to parents they cannot remember."</p><p>"Could this be undone by Eönwë?" Finarfin suggested.</p><p>Círdan shook his head. "He is a Maia, as they are. They can be territorial; I doubt he could cross the border into these lands, and they cannot get out."</p><p>"Then we must at least ask Maedhros and Maglor to release Elwing's boys," said Gil-Galad. "They will refuse, but we must try, mustn't we? We owe it to them."</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>Finarfin cornered Maglor an hour later.</p><p>"Will you ever let Elros and Elrond go?" he said without preamble.</p><p>Maglor blinked. "It is not safe for two youths alone in Beleriand; we would not cast them out." A justification, but not an answer. He continued, "If they ever wish to leave, and it is safe to do so, no one will stop them. Though I suppose you are more concerned with their adoption?"</p><p>Finarfin nodded.</p><p>"It is not within my power to undo, only theirs. Adoption is a vow before Ilúvatar, you know, and those were the terms; they are free to reject the bond if they so desire."</p><p>Of<em> course </em> it could not be so simple! Neither Almatáru nor Aþelairë were capable of wanting to be free any longer, so leaving the choice to them kept them neatly trapped with their abductors.</p><p>“What am I to tell Eärendil and Elwing? They thought their sons dead until Lord Námo told them otherwise, and they want nothing more than to see their children again.”</p><p>“Then they may visit,” said Maglor, as if it were obvious. “We have taken care of Elrond and Elros, and they are very much loved by us and everyone here. Aside from the unfortunate circumstances of their... acquisition, there is nothing for Elwing or Eärendil to object to.”</p><p>There certainly was, but -- who would tell them so? Their sons were turned and could not remember what they had gone through, and the Fëanorians would simply lie and claim they had always treated the twins well.</p><p>“Is there not?” Finarfin said, before he could stop himself. “They told me what the two of you did, that you <em> starved </em> them--”</p><p>“I did nothing of the kind! It is hardly my fault they were allergic to that herb, and it was not I who cooked the food for them!”</p><p>“That is no defense at all, and hardly answers for everything else you did to them, like locking them away for so long!”</p><p>Maglor actually looked slightly guilty for that, but he retorted, “It was not so long as all that, and we did let them out!”</p><p>Maedhros appeared, seemingly summoned by the shouting. Finarfin noted this only distantly, too caught up in his anger.</p><p>“Do I even <em> want </em> to know how you murdered those poor children? How much did they suffer before you turned their minds? How <em> dare </em> you?” he cried.</p><p>Silence fell.</p><p>After a time, Maedhros spoke, his face unreadable. “You are confused, I think, and misled (though perhaps not intentionally). I will speak to my sons, and we will clear this up once you have calmed down.”</p><p>That was not a request. Finarfin glared, but left, worrying. Had he harmed Elrond and Elros by showing his hand too soon?</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>(Círdan had heard from Finarfin of the fight, and decided to walk a round of the keep. Just in case.</p><p>After all, if there was anything... <em> amiss, </em> it would be good if someone heard it and stepped in.</p><p>He rounded a corner and heard the voice of Maedhros from an open door. He ducked back behind the corner.</p><p>“Would you care to explain to me why High King Finarfin believes I killed you?” Maedhros sounded exasperated, but not dangerously displeased.</p><p>“Well, we thought, since you didn’t like them anyway, and they didn’t recognize us...” said one of the twins, voice hoarse.</p><p>A sigh. “I do not dislike them. I have great respect for Lord Círdan, Finarfin is my uncle, and Gil-Galad is my king.”</p><p>A brief pause, and then, “Fine, so you like them, but you’re still upset that they never came to get us, and angry with the Valar a bit and Finarfin by extension.”</p><p>“What have I told you about reading minds?”</p><p>“Not to do it unless it’s really necessary. Sorry, atya.”</p><p>“Maybe we are also just a <em> little </em> bitter that they never came to get us.”</p><p>“And that Finarfin is here instead of our parents.”</p><p>“You understand why what you did was wrong, though, yes? And why it was a bad idea, when we already have so many diplomatic troubles?”</p><p>“We understand.”</p><p>“Good. Please do not do it again. Though I’m sure you have not learned your lesson on speaking in triple from multiple voiceboxes, since it always gives you a sore throat and you do it anyway.”</p><p>“You said that if shapeshifting is natural for us we ought to do it!”</p><p>“‘But do not hurt yourselves,’ I believe, was the end of that sentence,” came Maglor’s voice. “Speaking of, the last time you two decided to be flaming wheels of wings and eyes, I think you may have scorched the stone. Thank you for doing it outdoors, my dears.”</p><p>“We do listen <em> sometimes. </em>”</p><p>“And we are very grateful when you do. Now that we have gotten the scolding done with, I must say your showmanship was very good.”</p><p>One of the twins spoke up hopefully. “Good enough to get out of publicly apologizing tomorrow?”</p><p>“No,” said Maedhros. “Now, would you care to tell us what exactly you convinced our guests of?”</p><p>“Well, we started off by implying we were dead, and we got Vadh to help...”</p><p>Círdan, much more at ease than before, snuck back to his room.)</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>Just before dinner, Finarfin was greeted by all four lords of Amon Ereb in the hallway, the twins looking contrite and their fathers looking stern.</p><p>“These two have some apologizing to do,” said Maedhros. “Go ahead.”</p><p>Aþelairë said, “We lied to you. We did not actually die, we just thought it would be entertaining to play a trick on you and it went too far. We are very sorry.”</p><p>“We apologize for causing you distress, and we will not do it again,” said Almatáru, joining in. “Also, they did not know that we are allergic to cilantro, and we did not either. As soon as they found out, they stopped putting it in our food.”</p><p>“We did get locked in our room for the first week we were here, but that was it, and we were never in the cellars except for the time we hid there for an hour while trying to escape.”</p><p>Finarfin stared. He darted a quick glance at Maedhros, who had a hand (and stump, respectively) on the shoulder of each of the youths. Maglor stood by his side.</p><p>This was clearly some kind of forced retraction, trying to get Finarfin to doubt what he had seen, or a show of control. This was how Maedhros would control Almatáru once he was placed on the throne, this was how he would rule.</p><p>For all Finarfin knew, this entire mystery as to the twins' fates could have been orchestrated by him (or Maglor, if only because of the word choice of "orchestrated"). Either way, the message was clear: <em> We hold complete control over the actions and lives of Elrond and Elros. Do not cross us. </em></p><p>Finarfin played along. "I accept your apology," he said. "I must have behaved quite foolishly over the past few days, but it was all from love and worry, you understand."</p><p>The twins nodded guiltily.</p><p>"All is forgiven," said Círdan, "and I must admit you had us fooled. It was quite clever."</p><p>Gil-Galad cleared his throat. "I am still at a loss for one thing: how do you appear as bright as Calaquendi?"</p><p>Aþelairë and Almatáru exchanged glances. "We are shapeshifters," said Almatáru. "My apologies, I had thought that to be obvious. We like to glow."</p><p>"Watch!" said Aþelairë, but Maglor placed a hand on his shoulder to stop him.</p><p>"We are indoors. You know the rules."</p><p>Aþelairë rolled all twenty-seven of his eyes, most of which had suddenly appeared on his face and body. "Fine. No wings or fire or anything too big inside, and nothing too incomprehensible in front of guests, I know."</p><p>"Thank you, sugarplum."</p><p>At breakfast, Aþelairë (still with a great number of eyes) described the plans he had drawn up for a city that he wanted to build when the war ended. Almatáru (with only two eyes, but in them was the Void) noted that it would be called Armenelos, and be the capital of a great kingdom, to which Aþelairë responded that Almatáru was biased because he was going to live there, and anyway it would only stand for a little over three thousand years so not to get too prideful about the kingdom.</p><p>This devolved into an argument while Maedhros calmly sipped his tea.</p><p>"They do this a lot," said Maglor. "Getting into discussions about the future, I mean. Their foresight tends to build off of each other."</p><p>The meal passed in pleasant enough conversation, though Finarfin found that he had little appetite despite the quality of the meal.</p><p>Afterwards, he gathered his companions.</p><p>"We should leave soon. If there is nothing further for us to do here, we ought to return to our people, and tell the boys' parents what became of them," he said. "I find myself afraid of this place, and its people too."</p><p>Círdan placed a hand on his shoulder in a gesture of comfort. "I will talk to Eärendil and Elwing about Elrond and Elros. There is no need to distress yourself further about it. They are alive, and that has to be enough."</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>They left the next morning, Aþelairë and Almatáru guiding them out.</p><p>After walking through the woods for a while, the twins stopped. "We will leave you here," said Aþelairë, "but just follow the nightingales if you get lost. You should be back to where you entered in ten minutes."</p><p>"It was a pleasure having you here," said Almatáru. "Farewell!"</p><p>Somehow, after leaving the woods, it became easier to breathe, and the light of the sun shone down unbent and untwisted.</p><p>Finarfin stumbled, dizzy, and the events of the past days now seemed unreal and dreamlike.</p><p>Gil-Galad, too, seemed disoriented. "Did any of that really happen?" he asked. "It all feels like a waking dream."</p><p>"It did. Look back into the trees; the nightingales are watching us," said Círdan quietly.</p><p>Finarfin looked. The solid black eyes of the birds looked back.</p><p>"Let us continue, then."</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>Elwing clutched the letter from Círdan to her chest. This was the one, she knew it. This was the one that would tell her if her sons were alive.</p><p>She brought it to her husband, who opened it with shaking hands.</p><p>
  <em> "Dear Elwing and Eärendil, </em>
</p><p>
  <em> I will preface this letter by saying that Elrond and Elros are alive and well, and they are in residence at Amon Ereb..." </em>
</p><p>Eärendil wept, and Elwing threw her arms about him in joy.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>please leave comments and kudos if you liked it!</p><p> </p><p>In light of recent events: I do not consent to my own original ideas that appear in my fics being used without permission or without credit. If you are able to pick up ideas from my fic then you are certainly able to ask me for permission, and if you are going to publish, credit is REQUIRED.</p><p>This includes names such as elenyafinwë, aþelairë, and almatáru, as well as a number of other details and ideas that appear in my works.</p><p>If you are going to use my ideas for fic that excludes LGBTQ+ characters, for reasons religious or other, I do not give you permission to use them, even with credit.</p><p>This fic in particular has seen a lot of idea borrowing that has not been credited, and I would not like to see more.</p></blockquote><div class="children module" id="children">
  <b class="heading">Works inspired by this one:</b>
  <ul>
    <li>
        <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27698954">in the woods somewhere</a> by <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/CommanderMollyOBrien/pseuds/CommanderMollyOBrien">CommanderMollyOBrien</a>
    </li>
  </ul>
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